by Salsbury, JB
I slide my hand up her spine, pressing her to me until the full swells of her breasts are flush with my chest. My pulse is racing. I flex my hips, the friction from my jeans a bold contrast to the softness of her body.
She grips my biceps and pushes up on her toes, dragging her soft, petite frame against the length of mine. Fuck yeah.
Nothing in life has ever felt this right.
This isn’t what I’d planned, but my body, hell my soul, can’t wait another second. I walk her back a few steps until she’s pressed against the wall. She moans deep into my mouth and hooks one leg around my thigh.
Cupping her ass, my palm meets bare skin. I run my finger along the strip of thong that disappears between her cheeks. “I need you.” I coax her higher. The heat from between her legs sears me through my jeans.
She wiggles impatiently and grinds down her hips in request. So damn hot.
“I can’t wait.” She hops up, and I support her weight as she wraps her legs around me, pushing the tight fabric of her dress up around her waist.
My face buried in her neck, I alternate running my nose and my lips along her neck, tasting and breathing in the delicate skin I thought I’d lost. My blood pounds with the urgency to get inside her. She flexes and releases her hips, once, twice…
Separated by only my jeans and a tiny strip of lace, it’d be so easy to take her like this. “Mouse, I want you. But here?”
She digs her heels into my lower back with a whimper. “Yes, here. Now.”
I pull back and meet her eyes. They’re intense and steady. The deep brown burns into mine, pleading with me not to let her go. “I’d do anything for you.”
She drops her head, inviting me back to the tender contours of her throat. So slender, and fragile.
A tremor of shame racks my body. I lean in with a gentle brush of my mouth, hoping to find redemption while I soothe the spot where I’d inflicted pain. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper against her neck and kiss a path to her lips.
“No more apologies.” Her hands grip my head, holding me close. “Kiss me.”
Our mouths crash together. Her nails bite into my shoulders as she pulls me closer. I fist my hands in her hair, unable to hold back my fierce show of possession. She arches her back against the wall, rubbing her hot little body against the straining bulge in my pants. I’ve never had a problem holding back my release, but she’s making it impossible.
I tug down a strap of her dress. The heat of a bare breast hits my hand. No bra. “Damn, sweetheart.” I lean down and feed myself one pink nipple, pulling it deep until she’s writhing in my arms.
She works herself against me, finding her own pleasure. So different from the woman who only a month ago was afraid to let go. Pride swells in my chest.
I slide my hand between us to pop the buttons of my jeans. I free my dick and press it against the heat of her wet panties.
“Blake, oh…” Her breath hitches as I move myself against her.
“What is it, Mouse?” I drop her other strap and suck her neglected breast into my mouth, pulling the pebbled flesh behind my teeth.
“More.” She groans and runs her nails along my skin.
Goosebumps race from my scalp to the floor, igniting my need to feel her. I slip my fingers beneath her panties. Fucking hell. I bite my lip, but it does nothing to muffle the growl that rumbles in my throat. She’s ready.
I want to sink myself so deep inside her that nothing can ever come between us again. Lose myself within her so all our mistakes disappear and all that remains is us. “Are you sure?”
She pulls back. Her face is flushed, lips parted, and she looks up at me from beneath her eyelashes. “For the first time in my life, I’m sure. I love you, Blake.”
Her words rocket through me with a burst of adrenaline. “I love you, Mouse.” I bury myself inside her in one thrust.
“Yes.” She cries out against my lips and her nails bite into my shoulders.
Holding her by her ass, I wait for her to adjust. She squirms in my hands.
“Easy, baby. I’ve been waiting too long for this. I want to take my time.”
She whimpers and rolls her hips. “It’s only been five days.”
“Feels like a lifetime.” I pull out slowly and push back with the same pace. My lips trace her collarbone.
“Please, Blake.”
“Shh.” I dig my fingers into the supple flesh of her ass. “Hold on tight.”
Her arms constrict around my shoulders. It’s then that I realize that being wrapped up in my woman is the only place I want to be. Music, fighting… nothing comes close.
Leveraging her back against the wall, she meets my every thrust. Unafraid and confident. And absolutely fucking perfect.
My hand skates up the gentle curve of her hip to her breasts. I roll her nipple between my finger and thumb.
“Blake, yes…”
I had no idea this is what making love would be like. It doesn’t have to be slow and sensual, on a bed or surrounded by candlelight. Making love isn’t about the where or how, it’s about feelings. Even in a dirty room backstage at a club, up against a wall, this is making love.
The pressure of my release coils low and at the ready. What started as soft moans drifting from her lips has now turned to staccato breath. I shift my position to a better angle. Her hand releases me and flies to the wall above her head.
My hips pin hers in place while her back bows. I watch with fascination as our bodies move together in rhythm. Her breasts are pink from my mouth and dance before my eyes with every wave of my hips. My head swims at the overload of stimulation. The visual of her combines with the way her body grips mine in a relentless hold. Visions of our future together, making love every night and falling asleep wrapped up in her naked body. My stomach constricts, shooting bolts of euphoria to my dick. On pure instinct, I pull her bottom lip with my teeth and bite. And with that, we both ignite.
Warmth explodes in my gut, shooting down my limbs. I groan with her lip in my mouth and feel her cry of release in my throat. Her legs convulse around my waist, constricting tight before her body goes limp. I suckle at her lips, hoping I didn’t hurt her with my teeth.
“Fuck, Mouse. I felt that shit in my chest.”
Our bodies throb at our connection, recovering slowly from our simultaneous orgasm.
I’m panting, breathing in deep the scent of her hair and sweat-dampened skin. “Holy shit. We’re so damn good together.”
She laughs, but it’s half-hearted as she fights to catch her breath.
“Shit, I’d put you down, but I can’t move.”
Her limbs tighten around me. “No, don’t put me down. I like where I am.”
I nod and lean into her, sandwiching her between the wall and me. The weight seems to help, and she relaxes against me.
“Let me take you home,” I whisper against her shoulder.
“Whose home?”
I lean back to meet her eyes. “Our home.”
Her eyes grow wide, and she raises her brows. She rests her palms against my chest. “Blake, I—”
“Living together, that’s it. I know it’s fast, and you’re in the process of getting a divorce, but—”
She unhooks her legs from my waist. I pull out and instantly miss the heat of her body. Holding her close, I give her time to find her legs before I settle her back to standing.
“I don’t know what to say, I mean, are you sure you’re ready for that?”
I shrug, and smile. “I’ve never been more ready. Living the last five days without you and Axelle. I can’t imagine going another day. Please, don’t deny me my girls.”
She blinks. “You said that night that you wanted Axelle, that you claim her. Did you mean—”
“Every word. I know I’m not Axelle’s biological father, but is it possible that, on some level, I was meant to be?”
Her gaze shifts from me to the floor.
I don’t blame her for not believing me. “Look, I know my promises do
n’t mean shit anymore, but I’ll earn your—”
Her eyes dart to mine. “Your promises mean everything.”
Cupping her jaw, I tilt her face up to see tears shining in her eyes. “I want the chance to make you happy. To keep you safe. I can be the man you need. Give me the chance to show you?”
She swallows a shaky breath. “On one condition.” A hint of smile tugs at her lips. “You let me do the same for you.”
“Not sure I need your protection.” I drop a kiss to the tip of her nose.
“I know it sounds silly. But, everyone needs someone fighting in their corner, Blake. I’ve never had that, and neither have you. You own my heart and everything that comes with it.”
My eyes burn at the power behind her words. I squeeze them shut, forcing back the wave of emotion that’s making it impossible to breathe. I blink against the emotion. I own her heart. And no one has ever possessed mine like she does.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the little drawstring bag that I’ve been carrying around since Valentine’s Day. I fumble with the tie and fish out the delicate chain inside. “Give me your hand.”
Her lips part and tilt with a smile. “Is that—”
“It’s your Valentine’s Day present. I never got the chance to give it to you.” I hook the bracelet with the dangling heart pendant around her tiny wrist. “My heart belongs to you, Mouse. It belonged to you well before I was able to admit it.”
She flips her wrist slowly, admiring the shining silver against her skin, and fingers the heart. “It’s gorgeous, Blake. I love it.” Her eyes move back to mine, and her arms hook around my waist. “I love you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I love you too, baby.”
“Take me home.”
“Yeah, but um… stay here while I grab your shoes. I know your feet get cold.”
She shakes her head and melts deeper into my chest. “Don’t need them. My feet have never been warmer.”
Epilogue
Three months later…
Layla
Seventeen. My baby is seventeen.
The sun has dropped behind the Vegas mountains, and Ataxia is warming up on the makeshift outdoor stage that’s set up by the pool.
It was Blake’s idea to give her a rock ’n’ roll pool party. Insisting that I sit back and enjoy the party rather than waiting on a crew of hungry teenagers and a handful of professional fighters, he hired caterers. He even went as far as to send out notices to all the condos in the complex and let them know they were more than welcome to come.
Nothing’s too good for my girls.
Axelle and I have become accustomed to the phrase. Since we moved in, he’s spoiled us rotten. And this party is no exception.
“So do you know what it is?” Eve asks, leaning in from her seat across the table.
Blake made a big deal about his birthday gift for Axelle. I told him the party was enough. He disagreed.
“Yeah, he’s going to sing her a song.” I take a sip of my soda, hoping it’ll help calm my nervous stomach.
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Raven’s eyes glisten, and Jonah pulls her closer to his side with a sympathetic smile.
“He better not think of leaving fighting for music. The guy rips, but he’s got his rematch against Wade coming up and needs to keep his head in the game,” Jonah says, watching the stage.
“He’d never give up fighting. All he talks about is his fight with Wade. Now that all the steroid stuff’s been cleared up, he’s excited to get back to work.”
A chord from an electric guitar blares through the amp and ends our conversation. The small birthday crowd gathers close to the stage. Blake and Rex are standing up front, each one with a guitar slung low on their hips. My stomach tumbles with excitement.
I haven’t seen Blake take a stage since that night at The Blackout. Since then, he’s opened up his music room permanently, and even went as far as to move his piano out into the living room. He plays constantly. Usually with me lounging on the couch listening, or sitting on the piano bench at his side. Axelle’s taken an interest in guitar, and Blake has been working with her, teaching her the different chords. He’s mentioned he has a surprise for her tonight. My guess is it’s her own guitar.
“Hey everyone, thanks for stopping by to celebrate with us tonight.” Blake’s deep voice rumbles through the speakers, and the crowd of girls and guys chant Axelle’s name. “Kiddo, come up front here. There’s something I need to say.”
Rex’s guitar starts playing, and most of the older people around the pool scream their excitement at hearing the familiar song.
“Oh my gosh.” Raven’s voice filters through my stunned stare.
“The guy’s a stud,” Eve says, and whistles loud.
My eyes well up with tears. “It’s perfect.”
Blake steps up to his mic and joins in playing the lead guitar part to Guns N’ Roses’s “Sweet Child of Mine”.
The teenagers crowded around the stage probably have no idea who GNR is or that Axelle was named after the lead singer. Only a small group of people around know the meaning behind the song. And something tells me that only Blake knows his intention for playing this song to her tonight of all nights.
Blake and Rex harmonize, dropping key and growling out the lyrics much deeper than Axl Rose was capable of singing. My heart hammers behind my ribs. I lean left, right, but can’t see Axelle. I have to know what she’s thinking. I need to see her face.
I make my way from the poolside table to the stage and smile at the shouted encouragement of my friends left at the table.
Rounding the crowd of kids and the few adults, I find Axelle up front. Dead center. My breath catches in my throat, and I curl my lips between my teeth to keep from sobbing. Her head is tilted back, her eyes shining and fixed on Blake as he belts the words directly to her. She sways to the music. Killian is at her side, watching her face just as intently as I am.
The song breaks for the infamous guitar solo. I can’t take my eyes off Blake as his fingers dance across the guitar strings. His head’s down, strong legs open slightly and bent at the knees. He bites his lip in concentration as the guitar solo that puts Slash to shame ignites the crowd’s applause.
My own personal rock star.
I drag my eyes away and catch Rex watching Blake. He’s shaking his head, no doubt blown away once again by the natural gift that his friend possesses. It’s amazing, and a shame that he kept it hidden as long as he had.
Looking back and forth between the stage and Axelle, I watch, captivated, until the song slows and comes to an end. Everyone erupts in applause, and Rex says something to Blake, the excitement on his face obvious.
“Happy seventeenth birthday, kiddo,” Blake says into the mic. “That was part one of my gift to you.” He pulls an envelope out of his back pocket. “Here’s part two.”
“What?” I advance toward the stage, curious. He said he was going to play her a song—he didn’t say anything about an envelope. Is it money?
She reaches up and takes the gift from his hand. I swing my gaze from Blake’s nervous face to Axelle’s curious one as she opens a letter. Her eyes scan whatever’s written there, and her lip starts to quiver. Oh, God. Is it bad? What did he give her?
I push my way to her just as she covers her mouth with her hand.
“Axelle, what is it?” I say, and try to read the paper over her shoulder.
As if I’m not even there, she crushes the paper to her chest, shaking her head and gazing up at Blake.
He squats down to meet her eyes. “What do you think? Will you allow me the honor of being your dad?”
Oh my God!
She whimpers and takes a long deep breath, pulling her hand from her mouth. “But… I’ll be eighteen in a year. It’d only be for one year, and…” She tilts her head, squinting. “Are you sure?”
“Doesn’t matter to me if you’re seventeen or seventy-seven. If I could hand pick a daughter, I’d pick you. Every time.” He climbs d
own and pulls her into his arms, and she lets go of her tears. “I love you, Axelle Rose. We have a pretty kick-ass opportunity here. We get to choose who we claim as family. I choose your mom, and you. It’s your life, and I’ll be here for you no matter what you decide. It’s your choice.”
He must hear my crying, because he looks over and holds out his arm. I rush into his embrace, wrapping my arms around the two people I love most in the world, and thanking God for every single thing, all the bad and the mistakes, everything that brought me to where I am.
Axelle nods into his chest. “Yes, Blake. I say yes.” Her arms go tight around his waist. “I choose you.”
Blake
Safe to say that this night couldn’t get any better. Ataxia has been playing for the last hour, and the kids have been dancing and singing along. Axelle hasn’t stopped smiling once since I sang for her. I know because I’ve been checking. My daughter. I have a daughter. The thought pulls my lips into a grin I can’t tame.
“Baby, we are not naming our kid Eugene.” Jonah’s been playfully arguing with his wife over baby names.
“We have to at least consider it. It’s Guy’s middle name,” Raven says, and shoves a fist full of corn chips in her mouth.
“The fuck we do.” He runs his hand over her swollen belly. “That’s my baby growing in that sexy body. If it’s a boy, we name him Ryan, after my dad.”
“Right, Ryan Eugene,” she says through a cheek full of chips.
“What if it’s a girl?” I throw the question out there, and then look over my shoulder wondering where the hell my woman is. She said she was running upstairs to grab a sweatshirt, but that was forty-five minutes ago.
Before Layla and Axelle moved in with me, I had no idea how long it took a woman to put herself together. Now I’m convinced that women spend at least half their lives involved in some kind of beautification ritual. But almost an hour to put on a sweatshirt? Huh…
“If it’s a girl, that’s easy.” Raven shrugs, licking her fingers. “Bertha.”
